"It's okay. You must be tired from all the fighting. Go to sleep. Forever."
Those words hurt. Perhaps more than her pressing the dagger as she said them. Maybe. At this point, I'm not too sure. Everything is getting blurry.
It's not okay at all. How could it be?
My closest ally. My partner. She now holds a dagger which pieces through my organs.
It has not pierced my heart. Yet I feel pain. I can feel my thoughts fading. This feeling... It's something every human has. Is it fear? It's not. This... This is something more primal.
It's my survival instinct.
She's my lover? Matters not. She's the saintess? Matters not. I must live.
I have to live, so I can ask my Lord why such fate has fallen over me.
Did his grand plans not include me, his most faithful servant?
Cain stopped thinking. Even as he continued to lose blood, his flesh getting even more engraved into the dagger as he moved, he moved. He had to.
He was losing strength quickly. Something had to be done before he lost all consciousness and succumbed to the pitiful faith he could foresee for himself.
Using all his remaining strength, he twisted his body, and jumped, to put some distance between him and the attacker.
Atleast he tried to.
His body won't listen to him anymore.
Even in the face of monsters of abominable strength, he towered over them. Not once did he feels this.
For the first time, Cain felt absolute fear. Towards a human.
No. It was not towards her. It was towards himself.
What kind of a hero dies from a single stab in the back? Did it really hurt that much, or was it just because of who it was holding the dagger?
He couldn't tell.
He should get away.
But what if he ends up hurting his love?
He already has run out of survival instincts.
A soft whisper in his ear sang a melody, "Sleep, my child."
Then suddenly,
Everything went black.
.
.
"AAAAAGHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FU---- WHERE AM I?!"
"WHAT IS THIS?!?!"
The man, who felt nothing in his body, for fifteen long years, now stood tall in the body of a well built, seemingly handsome paladin.
Or perhaps, it was more laying on the ground, screaming.
"WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?! NURSE?! ANYONE?! HELP!"
He turned around.
The shocked face of a beautiful human female stood in front of him.
Did he know her? No.
Did she know him? No way. Pfft.
Then he saw her hands, then his own chest.
He didn't have to think much. The pain was very much real. She seemed familiar but he had no time to think.
He learnt a bit of kickboxing back in middle school. Ofcourse, it had been over 20 years since he practiced.
The opponent was a frail looking woman. A woman who had obviously stabbed this body.
The saintess was indeed frail, but she still knew basic self defensive combat. It would be enough to knock out a half-dead bastard. Atleast it should have.
A left hook.
"Haha, you fell for it! That was a fake!"
*Dumbass* Why would he say that while he was throwing it? His right arm is his dominant arm, as I have seen him slay countless dragons with it. I wonder why he seems so... Unlike him...
She focuses on the obvious uppercut he was in the position to throw right after the-
||POW||
She fell to the ground. It was not a fake.
What's going on?
Cain, since he was knighted, had never used dishonourable means in battle, till now.
Ofcourse, she did not know it was not Cain who stood in front of her, but a stranger in Cain's body.
"This... This... THIS IS NOT WHAT THEY PROMISED!"
||POW||
"The hell is this crazy woman talking about?"
"I must be dreaming right now. It sucks to die in a dream too though. This must be one of those long, sweet dreams in which you die peacefully. Atleast I hope so."
"Actually, there's no way in hell I'm dying in a properly functional body"
*looks at his profusely bleeding chest*
"Okay, maybe I will. Hope I wake up soon."
Voices. There were several. They kept getting louder... And closer.
"People. Looks like my luck hasn't run out yet, atleast in my dreams."
A blue screen gleams in front of the man lying on the ground, waiting for death.
|WELCOME TO FEYDRION.|
|Do you wish to sign up as a player?|